


and i got a lump in my throat (cause you're going to sing the words wrong)

by plannedserviceinterruption



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Heartbreak, Smut, and then not so sad, getting over it, sad darcy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2705969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plannedserviceinterruption/pseuds/plannedserviceinterruption
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like the same goddamn cliche she's seen over and over again in the darkness of a movie theatre. The one she's scoffed at, thinking that she's never going to be that girl. That girl who accidentally falls in love with her FWB partner.</p><p>But it's not about him anymore, it's now her own happiness that she needs to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i got a lump in my throat (cause you're going to sing the words wrong)

"Say it," he growls against her neck. His thrusts grew harder as he chased his own climax. She's practically vibrating from the need to orgasm, sweaty hands tightening on his forearms, nails biting. He makes a particularly hard thrust and she freezes, biting her lip.

He repeats it, "say it, Lewis," he grasps her hips and bores her down onto him. She gasps as she feels his teeth bite down on her neck.

"Say it, or I won't let you come." he ceases his movements inside her and she whimpers delightfully under his arm. She claws her nails up his thighs and he chuckles, rewarding her with a gentle thrust. It expels a soft groan from her and he grins maliciously at the sound.

"Please," she keens and she feels like she's never been so desperate for an orgasm. Adjusting his arms, he rubs her clit softly, just enough to tide her, but not enough to make her cum.

"Say it," he repeats. He starts to thrust again, slowly and languidly this time, which he knows she hates. Slow sex in the middle of fast sex made her frustrated and susceptible to doing things he wanted.

The slow burn of his cock inside of her made her delirious and she reached to rub her clit to alleviate some of the pressure. Anticipating this, he winds one of his arms tighter and smacks her ass with the other.

"Lewis, what did I tell you?"

She squeezes her walls around him and his thrust just stutters for a split second. She jumps when he lands another hit on her ass cheek.

Leaning in, he bites down on her neck, "not fucking yet, baby." he soothes the bite with his tongue and slides one of his fingers against his cock. He pets her pussy softly against his thrusts.

She freezes, then tries to thrust back if not for the hands that occupy her hips.

"Lewis-"

"I'm yours," she says in one breath, "I'm yours," she repeats, unsure if he had heard her at all.

He stares at the back of her head as masculine pleasure rolls in his sternum. He tightens his hands around her hips and bores her down on his cock.

"Good girl."

He starts a brutal rhythm, his cock sinking inside of her and he lets go of her hip to press down on her clit. Somewhere between her soft whines and half sentences, she's delirious.

"Oh shit, James. Fuck."

He laughs, "that's the idea."

She whimpers. The sound she makes sparks something primal in him and he tampers down his own orgasm to make sure she gets hers. But Lewis has other plans.

"James, I'm so close, please! Please come inside me! Fill me up, please."

Shit, he feels his balls tightening at the thought of coming inside of her. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he thrusts hard enough to make the headboard slam into the wall.

"Come on my cock, baby. Fuck, you've been such a good girl. Be good and come."

And just like that, she's tightening around him, milking every last drop from him. Groaning into the side of her neck, he releases her. The bedsheets rip and the fabric catches on his fingers. She's shaking, body trembling in the Aftermath. He rolls off her and wraps the blanket around her body. She gazes lazily to him, dazed and delirious with pleasure and he fights to keep a smug grin from blooming.

It's peacefully quiet in the aftermath, he is almost half asleep when it slips out of her mouth.

"I think I love you," she says. Eyes bright and focused, Darcy sprawls herself onto his chest and starts to slowly rub her fingertips along his metal ones. Something is wrong however, as she can feel his body stiffen. His hand grabs hers for millisecond, as if it's a gut reaction, and lets go.

"What?" is his dumbfounded reaction.

"You heard me," she says in a small voice.

"Lewis, we need to talk," he starts softly. His chest is tightening in the anxiety of her words and from her reaction to it, he can tell she is too.

"I'm sorry," she realizes her mistake and quickly rolls off him and sits on the bed before she bends down to get her underwear. It's a snap quick action, as if she's prepared to leave. Her back is toward him but she still can feel his pity roll off in waves as if he's staring at her face.

He keeps quiet and Darcy chances a look to him. She manages to catch his eye before she turns away quickly. She hesitates at his silence, humiliation coiling inside of her.

"I know we established rules in the beginning of this and I don't want to complicate whatever this is, but over these past few months, I think that things have changed between us and..." she trails off, hysteria and humiliation grow monstrous in her belly. She whips on her bra and pulls on her shorts, leaving it half buttoned as her fingers jitter on the seam.

"And I think that you feel it too."

A second tocks by and she hears nothing from him. In the meantime, she busies her hands to button her pants so they don't fidget.

"Lewis, we're not like that-" he tries again. It sounds like there's a lodge in his throat and Darcy shuts her eyes at the tone in his voice.

"Like what?"

"Like that, we're not together."

"I know, but we could be. I mean, we're already in bed together and we are practically together, I-" she stops herself, contemplating if this was the time at all to expose herself. She decides a beat later.

"I like that you're stubborn, crazy smart and that you think Pulp Fiction is the best movie created. I like how you treat me like an adult, like I'm equal to you. I like how every time you touch me, you don't touch me like I'm going to break. I like your arm. I like it when you touch me with that arm. I like how you're always so protective of me even if it's the smallest things like the perv at the grocery store. I like how my body reacts to you when I'm near you."

She turns to him, eyes searching his.

"I like that you're a good man."

Sweet Jesus.

She pivots, eyes looking for her lost shirt. Stunned, Bucky does nothing but hold his breath, mind processing and throwing the words around his brain. Her purple shirt lies on the edge of the bed frame and she gathers her dwindling courage.

"That's how I feel about you. Do you like anything about me? I mean, I know in the beginning you said things but..."

She trails off and waits, fingers clenching tightly on the purple fabric.

He stares at her, mouth ajar and lump forming in his throat. How could she look at him and see these things when he could barely look at himself in the mirror? She waits, face hopeful and flushed. He doesn't know what he could say. That he found her the most beautiful after being fucked thoroughly? That when Steve was hell bent on being too careful around him, he appreciated when she could push him further. That he hated her when he first met her and then ironically started this with her in the course of three months?

A minute passes between them and the light in those big beautiful hopeful eyes extinguishes. Her expression breaks. A flicker of beaten hurt flickers in her eyes and then is gone in the next fleeting moment. Clenching her teeth, she walks to toward her shirt, posture raised in a challenge.

He opens his mouth and no words come out.

Raw and hot humiliation rolls over her but that does not keep her from stiffening her spine and uttering the next defiant words, "yeah. That's what I thought."

She puts on her shirt. Gathering her shoes, she takes her purse from the end of the bed.

She avoids his pity, gaze stubbornly on the odd stain on the floor. She lifts the corners of her mouth, a facsimile of a smile and it churns his gut on how fraudulent it looks against her features.

He wants to say something, something that would put a stop to the end of whatever they have. But he can't. He can't even say anything, he can't push any words out of his mouth to stop this. He can't help but feel like that's this is the end of whatever this is.

"It's okay. I'm sorry for making you hear all of that. I should have kept my mouth shut, " she maintains eye contact, she laughs depreciatively, and he feels every thread of control slipping out of his fingers, "I think I broke one of the rules, and it's not going to end well for both of us if we continue this. And I can't- I can't."

His fingers tighten around the blanket, throat plugging and sternum clawing.

"Don't-" he starts and then stops. She waits a beat, for him to finish. But when he clearly isn't, her small smile dies. Why can't he stop this? Why can't he just form words and stop this from happening?

Her face crumples again, lips trembling and eyes glistening and it makes this a hundred times worse, "it's okay if you don't feel the same, but I can't do this, I need more." she tosses her head confidently.

"Goodbye, James."

The finality of her farewell twists the knife in his stomach. She calmly walks out of the door and shuts it quietly. He doesn't even notice that his grip had ripped the mattress.

He stares at the spot she previously occupied.

The soft click seems to rattle the whole room.

And it suddenly felt emptier without her presence.

**

She makes it ten steps from his room before she's covering her mouth and making a run for it to her own. The pain of rejection hits her hard and she hits the call button for the elevator before panicking at the thought of it full of people. She bypasses the elevator and shoves through the door of the stairwell. Her mind in panic mode, set on escaping. She could feel the swelling ball of air in her throat suffocate her. She wants to get somewhere isolated and safe before everything boils over and the room she shared with Jane would definitely not classify as neither isolated, nor safe. Once she saw Darcy's face, she would interrogate her like a dog with a bone until she would break and tell her all of her secrets. Her mind scrambles to find a safe haven and she remembers an option she was offered a few weeks ago.

Hitting the stairs by two, she bursts through the door she knows would be unlocked.

She doesn't even wait to hear the snap of lock as she falls to her knees. The beige carpet is a fuzz as tears cloud her vision.

The sobs come out, heavy and wet and she wants to bottle it up and cram it back into her throat. But she can't and it spills out of her. How could he not feel that way about her? She saw how he looked at her. Like she was someone special, like she had a place in his life.

Like she was loved.

She can't fathom on how it didn't affect him the way if affected her. But for God's sake, she knew that it wasn't some fake thing she made up all in her head. He seemed true and honest, that he cared about her. He was possessive and not just because of stupid caveman tendencies that guys seemed to have. She was worth something- he said- he said-

Well, shit. He hadn't really said anything at all, did he.

She tries to clear her mind, but pain blinds her and another sob wretches out of her. She feels utterly weak and loose limbed and she bunches her body into a ball. Her lips tremble as her bones grow heavy. She wants to hate him, she wants to hate him so badly. But she hates herself more. She hates herself in how she never learns from her mistakes, how she always fell for sweet nothings and empty promises and nothing but lies. She should have learned from the first time that she maybe wasn't meant for relationships.

She closes her eyes and snorts hatefully at that word. She had a twisted sense of what that word meant if it meant she always left with a shattered heart and an empty chest. She felt utterly foolish and lost and stupid. She couldn't even blame Barnes on any of the things she's feeling right now. They had inexplicably agreed on no feelings, both scoffing at that, believing that they would never have anything but grudging lust. It was fatalistic of her to presume that he could ever return her feelings. Numbly, she realizes that he didn't even do anything to hurt her. She wielded the knife herself.

The closed door suddenly jiggles, the lock open and in a moment of hot panic, she jumps over the couch and pulls the blanket over her face. Just as the door opens, she manages to click the television on. Wiping her face with the ball of her hands quickly, she hopes her face isn't blotchy and puffy.

Clearly spotting her shoes and forgotten purse on the ground, the newcomer calms at the familiarity.

"Darce?"

Clint walks in, Lucky on his heels. Lucky runs over to her and yelps and barks at her playfully. She runs her hands through his fur and bites down on her lip, hoping to find some semblance of calm before she starts talking.

"Yeah, I'm here!" she says, hoping it comes out as calm as she wants, but her voice cracks at the end and she covers it with a cough.

"You sick or something?" he asks as he moves to the kitchen. She can hear the rustle of the grocery bags and it gives her a few moments of clarity. It's lost, however, as he just drops them on the table and leave to the living room.

Mouth wobbling, she clenches her teeth to stop it.

"Nah, just a little breezy."

He opens a bottle of beer and slides around to sit at the arm of the couch. He's balancing take out menus in one arm and it's a miracle that he hasn't looked at her face yet.

"Hey, Jane told me that you haven't eaten dinner. Wanna catch some Italian and watch the game? It's Green Bay and Chicago, and we both know who's gonna lose, right Darce?"

She searches her brain of something clever to say. But all she could think about was the shocked look on Bucky's face when she told him she loved him. And then all the vulnerability washes over her again.

Even though he lives up to his Avenger name, sometimes, things fly over Clint's head even if it was obvious to others. She hopes that is one of those times. She keeps her head down and sniffles, face turned to the side and she scrambles for an excuse for her blotchy face.

"Mhm."

He realizes something is wrong when she isn't making her smartass replies. His brow furrows at her nonresponsiveness. He turns to her but she stubbornly keeps her head away.

"Darce, hey," he slips a finger under her chin, "hey."

She fights him a moment and then let's him turn her face after realizing that he wasn't going to stop until he knew what was wrong. She opens her eyes, another tear welling and slipping from her. Clint's lips clench and his eyes burn at the sight of that.

"I'm going to kill him."

She cringes at the thought of the broken camaraderie that would result in that. There was already tension between Stark and Steve from a recent mission due to uncontrollable actions. She didn't want another one to come down just because of her and her stupid choices.

A strangled 'no' sweeps from her and she clears her throat. She tries again.

"No. Don't. He didn't do anything." and it's so stupid even now that she's trying to protect him from some deserved punishment.

"Then what the hell happened? Why are you crying alone in the middle of the night?"

In the first few months of their agreement, Darcy was shit in hiding the post coital glow. She'd wear it around in the middle of the night, walking back to her room. One night, as she was trying to sneakily get out of Bucky's room, Barton dropped down from the vents with a shit eating grin and a wise look on his face.

But the look on his face is no longer playful and she tugs her chin away from his fingers, but he holds on tight and forces her to meet his eyes.

"What did he do? I'm going to ask you one more time before I go and kick his ass."

Darcy shuts her eyes and swallows shakily, the lump in her throat making it hard for her to tell him.

"Darcy." The steel in his voice tells her he's serious about the threat, and she doesn't want to cause any more tension between the team mates.

"Nothing. He didn't- he didn't want the same thing I did. That's all."

"What did he say to you?" Clint is talking through clenched teeth now.

"That's the thing, Clint. He said nothing," she lets out a hoarse laugh at the icy veins in her heart, "I thought somehow that he felt the same thing about us. But he didn't. And it was just sex to him, like what we agreed to. And now everything is ruined because of me. So no, he didn't do anything." her shaky smile crumples as another sob threatens to overtake her speech, "nothing at all."

She buries her face into her hands and tries to stop the hurt and embarrassment she feels choking her heart. She can feel her heart beating in her fingertips, the tightening of her skin and the emptiness she feels inside. It burns so hard that it ices her chest and she clutches it like a stroke victim.

"Darcy," his voice is soft and it slams her. Clint gathers her into his arms and the dam breaks, her whimpers becoming full blown sobs as she cries into his chest.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

It wasn't.

"What's so wrong with me? What's so wrong with me that no one stays? What's so wrong with me that they only go for sex? What's-what's" she breaks off, blurry eyed and hysteric. Clint tightens his arms around her and she shakes in his arms. He pulls her to his lap and she becomes boneless and half sobbing.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Darce." Clint's comment is so gentle that she almost misses it.

"Then why-" she hiccups, "why does this happen to me over and over again? Why do guys always just want me for sex and then when I say something they run off and I'm the one with the broken heart?"

Clint pets her hair, arms so snug around her that she feels safe.

"I'm such a fool, Clint. I try so hard, and I'm never the one. What's wrong with me?" she sobs and feels utterly powerless over her own emotions.

"It's not your fault, Darce."

His words make her squeeze her eyes shut, as if she could block them.

It's not her fault, but it is.

"I give it to them and they drop it, Clint. They drop it. They drop my happiness every time."

Lucky whines and nudges her foot with his nose, somehow sensing her distress. She cries harder into Clint's chest, sobbing until she's wrung out. Only one thought crosses her mind until she falls asleep.

She should have kept her mouth shut.

**

She wakes up to a cute button nose nudging her face and she laughs as a wet furry mouth slobbers on her neck. She pushes Lucky away and blinks, vision blurry and eyes crusty. Rubbing her eyes clear, she grabs the glass of water that's left on the night stand and chugs it down before slipping from the covers.

Lucky slides between her bare legs as she walks to the door, the fur tickles and she giggles as he presents his belly for a rub.

"You're a cutie, aren't you?" he twitches as she runs her hands through his belly and she smiles at that. Her skin feels taut and she creeps to the kitchen with Lucky in tow.

"Have you been fed, buddy?"

She checks the food bowl, empty, and Lucky nudges her foot again.

"Alright, alright, you little punk dog."

She walks to the pantry, searching for the dog food. A note is taped to the pantry door, Clint's chicken scratch penmanship clearly a representation of his morning rush.

_Feed Lucky, reheat the breakfast on the table, gone for mission debriefing._

_WE WILL TALK LATER_

_\- Clint._

Like hell they were. Balling the paper, she tosses it into the trash and pulls the dog food out. She doesn't want to talk about anything. She wants to forget what happened yesterday and move on with her life. She wants to forget that she ever had feelings for Bucky. She debates on hiding from Clint for the rest of the day. It was Saturday morning and she didn't have anywhere she had to be. Sighing, she knows that Clint could easily find her with his soldier instincts or if she was lucky to evade him, she would risk him taking a visit to Bucky and she's sure she doesn't want that to happen.

Dragging the massive bag, Darcy nearly trips when Lucky nearly bowls her over to get to his dish.

"Lucky, sit."

Immediately, he puts his body down and wags his tail. Once she's done pouring the food into the dish, she motions to Lucky and he dives right in.

She smiles as his tail wags furiously and she drags the bag back into the pantry before going to the table. A saran wrapped plate of bacon and eggs are there and she heats it up. Mindlessly waiting, she goes to the living room and picks up her phone and scrolls through her new notifications.

A new message blinks on top of her notification bar and she freezes when she sees the unknown number. Cold panic grips her throat as she sees the last four digits. She makes herself swallow and her fingers hover the notification a few times.

_Get a grip._

She clicks it and the windows switch. She hopes for a millisecond that her phone would freeze and restart, delaying her to view the message. But it doesn't and she licks her lips as she reads it.

_I'm sorry._

She smiles bitterly. It's exactly what she knew it would say. She doesn't know if it's a 'I'm sorry I hurt you' or 'sorry, I don't feel the same way' but it was not a 'let's talk about this' and definitely not a declaration of love. He didn't want to see her again. Closing the app, she decides to not reply. Maybe this was for the best. Maybe having no closure was enough closure.

From the kitchen, the microwave beeps twice and she tosses her phone on the sofa. She turns and walks back to the kitchen. Lucky's done his food and is waiting for her and she pats his head as she walks by. She eats all of her eggs and splits the bacon between her and Lucky.

"Keep this between me you, kay? Your darling owner might kill me if he knew how much of this I'm giving you."

She puts the dirty plate into the dishwasher and slams it shut. She tries really hard to not think of unfair and how angry she suddenly feels at Bucky. Her face feels hot as she wipes the angry tears that fall. God, she's so fucking stupid. He's not even worth it.

She forces herself to blink away the angry tears and she stares at her hands, clenched hard on the faucet. She makes herself look at the blurred reflection. She makes herself look until the feeling recedes.

He didn't want her. That was the truth.

They promised to not have feelings for each other. That was also the truth.

He didn't owe her anything. And that was the reality of things.

She needed to get over it. That's reality.

"What a pathetic fool you are, Lewis," she hisses to herself.

Clint's apartment suddenly seems too small and Darcy's always been claustrophobic. Grabbing the leash hanging on the hook, she whistles to Lucky. He trots over, tail wagging.

"Wanna go for a walk, handsome? Wanna go for a walk?" he jumps, pawing at her and she bends down to put the leash on. Once the leash is secure, she grabs her phone and her purse and writes a quick note for Clint on one of the leftover take out menus.

She makes sure that the door is locked before she takes the stairs down. There was literally no point in going outside if she was going to use the elevator. The lobby is quiet, with only stray agents walking around on a Saturday morning. She smiles brightly at the security guard. Even if she feels heartbroken and bitter at the moment, they've always been nice to her.

"Early morning walk?" Ernie asks. He's a fit forty two year old man with a beautiful wife and two kids who were both in college.

"Yep!" she chirps, inwardly cringing on how forced it sounds. Ernie doesn't notice.

"Well, have a great day! See you later!"

His cheeriness grinds her gears but she tamps it down and nods. She decides to take Lucky to an off leash Park and she takes a detour that leads her through a ravine. She pauses for a moment, the ravine quiet with the exception of the rustle of the leaves. She breathes in deeply, the scent of evergreens and dirt filling her lungs. This is what she needs. She needs calm and quiet against the misery she feels. Impatient, and definitely not appreciating the beauty in nature, Lucky tugs on the leash and they continue walking.

They pass by a few fallen trees and Lucky jumps on top of them. He scrambles off and searches for something, he turns back to her, a huge branch grasped between his teeth. She chuckles.

"Are you going to carry this all the way to the park?"

Lucky tilts his head adorably, eyes wide in the universal language of dogs, which means that he's confused. He doesn't drop the stick but continues to trot down the foliage covered path with her. She smiles and shakes her head.

She undoes the blue leash the moment they get to the crowded park. Stick stubbornly still in his mouth, Lucky stops and turns to her for a brief moment before he starts galloping into the open field. The branch drops in the middle of his run. Without a moments notice, another dog jumps in and steals the branch. Slowly, a smile unfurls on her face as she watches Lucky try to play with other dogs.

She lazily makes her way to Lucky, grabbing one of the supplied tattered tennis balls in the field to play fetch. They've been to this dog park before and she's completely sure that he wouldn't run away from her. Plus, there were many dogs around that would distract Lucky if he goes too far. As she steps closer, Lucky dodges her and nudges forward playfully before retreating.

"Are we playing now?" she laughs and fakes a few throws of the ball. But Lucky is too smart to be fooled by that trick.

Throwing the ball as far as she can, Lucky takes off and returns quickly, mouth wide with the ball. Finding a good spot, she repeatedly throws the ball, each time harder and farther than the previous one. It somehow soothes her, the repetitive action grounding her as Lucky trots back. 

She tosses the ball until her arms are tired and Lucky's returning trot slows. It's sundown as she realizes what time it is. Whistling, she gets a panting Lucky to come to her. She disposes the slobbery ball and puts the leash on him and they leave the park.

It takes her a few moments in Clint's apartment to realize that she hadn't thought of Bucky at the dog park. She didn't think of him at all. And now she sort of hates herself cause she's thinking of him now. Him and stupid fucking face and hair and how he secretly smiled when Steve did something dumb. Or when she said something that amused him. Or how he looked like he felt sorry for her when she exposed to him everything. She gives a shuddering breath and then forces her mind to reach for something else,

She finds resolution in Barton's kitchen. After cleaning Lucky's paws, she feeds him again and finds her phone and deletes all the blunt messages she and Bucky exchanged, mostly of the 'let's bang soon' variety. She then wipes through her photo, ones she secretly took, when he was too tired or blissed out to care.

Her finger accidentally selects one to view and she has a moment of weakness, they're both naked in the photo, but only their shoulders show. He's on his back, his chest pillowing her head and she's blowing a raspberry to the camera, he looks up to it, just in time for her to snap the picture. She gets a sick sinking feeling in her chest. They look disgustingly happy in this photo, like it was real and it was a relationship. She starts to sweat at the feeling of vulnerability that rises over her.

She presses extra hard on the touch screen and deletes it. She deletes everything that ever made it on her phone that proved that they had something. She deletes the messages and the photos and the notes and everything, she deletes his number and blocks it. She considers deleting Steve's number but dismisses that thought. Steve was her friend and didn't even know about them. Steve probably still thought Bucky hated her, which wasn't exactly far from the truth. To Steve, they were barely acquaintances. To Bucky, she was still just a warm body to use. To her, well, she doesn't need to think about it.

She clears her phone, the percentage bar passes 100% and then disappears. The photos are deleted, like it never happened. Like her and Bucky weren't anything.

Not any more.

She lets herself taste that thought, it consumes her veins like a slow burn. She won't let guys like him make her weak any more.

He didn't want her. Big fucking deal.

She has dealt with worse than heartbreak.

She's Darcy Lewis and she's done with being weak. She's Darcy Lewis and she's an awesome person. She's Darcy Lewis and she's going to find her own happiness.

**

**Author's Note:**

> ok, i've hit a writer's block for fools and kings. I'm about 60% done the next chapter.  
> hopefully, I'll be able to conquer it soon.
> 
> but seriously, your support and kudos and comments are tiding me through.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!


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